


The Last Summer

by Sorsa



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Adventure, Canon Compliant, Coming of Age, Fluff, M/M, Novices, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7944574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorsa/pseuds/Sorsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altaïr hears a rumour of a Crusader camp not far away from Masyaf. He wants to go and explore the camp with his fellow novice Malik but ends up being joined by Kadar, Rauf, and Abbas for their adventure.</p><p>In the end when they return back to Masyaf they are not quite the same as they were before because of what ended up happening in the Crusader camp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Summer

**Author's Note:**

> I have wanted to write canonverse for so long but I haven't had any good plot to go with it. So when this idea came to me I jumped at it immediately. 
> 
> Beta-read by DarthTofu.

In the village of Masyaf was a bench. On that bench sat the greatest master assassin practising his eavesdropping skills. He was patient in his task, after all he had great goals in life. He would turn fourteen next year and start doing missions so he had to be ready.

 

The air was hot and dry but it didn’t deter people from gathering in small crowds all around the village. It was always hot during the summer and it was currently just after midsummer.

 

A warm breeze blew through the village making the tails of his robe flutter in the wind. It wouldn’t be long before he would don the proper assassin whites with the long tails and white cowl but for now he had to do with the novice greys. He corrected his hood out of habit rather than necessity.

 

So far he had not heard anything interesting being talked about. Even if he was patient it was starting to get on his nerves. He told himself he would wait only a little bit longer and if he heard nothing interesting he would get up and go back to the fortress.

 

“My neighbour told me he saw Crusaders on his way back from Damascus,” a man told to his few friends and this caught Altaïr’s attention.

 

“Are you sure he didn’t just see some bandits or Salah ad-Din’s men?” questioned the other man and the rest of the people seemed to agree with the second speaker.

 

“Your neighbour is a drunk coward who can’t even rein his wife in. What does he know about Crusaders?” criticised another and again the rest of the men seemed to agree.

 

“No, I swear to the prophet he saw Crusaders. He even told me the location,” the first man defended himself.

 

“Probably got too drunk on his way and cooked up the story to escape the wrath of his wife,” joked one of the speakers which got the rest of the speakers, apart from the man telling the story, laughing.

 

“He told me there is a Crusader camp at the crossroads and that he had to sneak past it in the middle of the night just to make it home. Why would he lie about this?” the man explained.

 

“Because he is a drunk who fears his wife?” suggested a man.

 

At this point Altaïr tuned out of the conversation. What he had heard was amazing and got him thinking. What if he and maybe Malik would scout the area? Surely Al-Mualim would reward him for such a task. It might even get the master convinced he was ready to start doing missions.

 

He got up from the bench as discreetly as he could in his hurry to find Malik. Chances were he would find his best friend either at the library consuming some dusty tomes or practising his sword skills.

 

He made his way quickly up the hill past the looming guards stationed all along the path leading to the fortress. The courtyard was filled with novices practising either in the ring of whacking the dummies. He had beaten everyone in the courtyard in a sword fight.

 

He looked around himself and saw Malik furiously beating a dummy as if he were trying to kill it. Malik had become obsessed with practising his sword skills after his father had died recently. Before that Malik had been much more interested in running on the roofs and reading. They were almost the same age with Altaïr being just a few months older and they had both been born into the order so they were almost like brothers. Almost. But not quite.

 

“Malik!” he raised his voice enough to be heard over the loud clang of metal hitting metal.

 

Malik gave the dummy a good whack where the neck would have been on a human being. Then he stopped and turned around to face Altaïr. Malik had the angriest expression he had seen anyone wearing. Malik was always angry these days it seemed.

 

“What?” Malik asked, obviously irritated at being interrupted.

 

“I have an idea,” he said and Malik finally let his expression soften by raising his eyebrow at him.

 

“Come, I don’t want to discuss this in the middle of the courtyard,” he said and waved his hand in a conspiring manner.

 

Malik glanced warily at the other novices before discarding his sword. Then they moved to the far side of the courtyard. If he succeeded in his plan it would be a great adventure and maybe he could even cheer Malik up in the process.

 

“So what is it?” Malik asked in a low voice.

 

“I heard there is a Crusader camp at the crossroads and I want to go explore it,” he said in an equally hushed voice.

 

“And what does this have to do with me?” Malik asked and crossed his arms.

 

“I want you to come with me, of course,” he replied.

 

Malik seemed to weigh things for a while in his head before answering, “Al Mualim would never agree with your plan.”

 

“We don’t need to tell the master a thing. We can easily sneak out without anyone noticing,” he argued.

 

“But why?” Malik asked and gestured with his arms. Altaïr grinned.

 

“We would surely be rewarded for our knowledge of possible Templars. Don’t you want some recognition for your skills?”

 

“That is _if_ we succeed,” Malik countered.

 

“We will succeed. You and me are the best assassins around here. I believe whole-heartedly that if I have you with me there’s zero chance of failure,” he said firmly.

 

Malik had the entire area memorised in his head and could speak several different languages while he had the physical infiltration skills and mind for strategy. They would make an excellent team if he could just persuade Malik to agree to his plan.

 

“You mean, you, me, and Kadar will succeed,” Malik said after considering his proposal for a while.

 

Altaïr felt his smile drop the instant the annoying little brother was mentioned. Kadar was only eight years old and a terrible nuisance. After the death of Faheem Al-Sayf Malik was rarely without his brother making Altaïr feel jealous of having to share Malik with another person.

 

He had not known he had such a possessive trait in himself but he kept wishing Kadar would disappear, leaving all of Malik to himself. But Malik insisted that he should bring Kadar everywhere these days.

 

“Yes, of course,” he agreed reluctantly as he knew it was pointless to argue against bringing Kadar since Malik would not agree to his plan otherwise.

 

Somebody dropped over the stone fence they were standing against. That someone landed less than gracefully even though they were wearing novice clothes. Altaïr frowned and saw Malik looking curiously at the person who had probably been listening in on them all this time.

 

“What is this fun you are talking about?” the newcomer asked in an all too cheerful way which revealed him to be Rauf even before seeing his face.

 

“Altaïr wants us to go and sneak into some Templar camp,” Malik said and Altaïr gave him a murderous glare which was returned with a shrug.

 

“Ooh! That sounds like fun. There’s no way you are going to leave without me,” Rauf said and smiled annoyingly wide.

 

Rauf was another one of their age mates and seemed to get along with everyone. He was a sickeningly likeable person which there weren’t all that many of among the assassins.

 

Altaïr sighed and considered what his words would mean for his expedition.

 

“Sure you can come. We leave tomorrow at dawn,” he said and tried to force a smile on his face.

 

Rauf was not just a likeable person but best friends with Abbas which meant that they would be joined tomorrow by not only Rauf but also Abbas. Abbas was a year older than the three of them were but for some reason had not started his missions. Altaïr suspected it was because Abbas was an idiot.

 

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” he said even if he knew it was futile.

 

“Oh I won’t!” Rauf agreed and looked honest in his promise.

 

This was still better than risking Rauf getting upset for not including him and then telling the master what he was up to.

 

“Let us meet at the market place tomorrow morning then. Bring something to eat and water with you because we will be out for a few days,” he advised and looked at the dawning disbelief on Malik’s face with amusement. The expression quickly turned into a scowl.

 

Malik didn’t comment even though he clearly wanted to.

 

“I’ll see you then,” Rauf said and set off with a wave, disappearing into the mass of novices on the courtyard.

 

The two of them remained silent for a while. Malik was clearly displeased with his idea.

 

“When were you going to inform me that you want to stay overnight at this idiotic trip?” Malik asked.

 

“I would have told you if Rauf had not decided to appear,” he defended.

 

“Look, I’m not even sure why I’m agreeing to this but I will not let you bring Kadar to any harm,” Malik said while pointing his finger at Altaïr.

 

“So why bring him along to begin with?” he challenged as he didn’t want the little brother to join them in the first place.

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Malik said and Altaïr had to agree he did not.

 

He looked on as Malik left the courtyard with the probable intention of sitting in the library for the rest of the day. He decided he should also polish up his fighting skills so he picked up a practice sword.

 

**************************

 

The next morning a small crowd of boys could be found at the village marketplace. Rauf appeared with Abbas as predicted and Malik had his little brother with him. So five boys sneaked out of the village where only two were originally supposed to be.

 

The first thing they did as they had left the village was to head to the mountain paths which were impossible to travel by horse. Nobody said it aloud, but when Malik suggested they head to the hills everybody complied without protest as they all knew they would be much harder to find there.

 

It also meant that they had to rely entirely on Malik’s sense of direction since the rest of them knew only a little bit about the paths. The unfortunate thing about choosing the mountain paths instead of the conventional road was that Kadar kept slowing them down from the beginning.

 

The eight year old Kadar with his short legs had a hard time walking up and down the sloping paths. It ground at Altaïr’s nerves but he kept quiet. He didn’t want to end up fighting with Malik who controlled the direction they went.

 

Still it was evident they were all very excited for this adventure. It didn’t take too long until Altaïr stopped minding the additional company they had with them. He felt rather great being the leader of their group.

 

They chatted about all kinds of things while they walked on.

 

“Do you think carrier pigeons have feelings?” Rauf asked when a carrier pigeon flew over them.

 

“Probably,” he answered as he could see no reason why not.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Animals don’t have souls. Why would they have feelings?” Abbas argued and climbed over a rock on the path.

 

“There’s a pigeon that lives in the marketplace and steals from the stalls and poops all over the place. I swear it has something against humans. I agree with Altaïr,” Kadar piped in on the conversation.

 

“Animals don’t think, Kadar. That’s stupid,” Abbas said.

 

Malik remained quiet and just stared in front of himself.

 

Another conversation they had was whether or not there was any point in becoming a brotherhood scholar.

 

“Why become a scholar when the whole point is to assassinate people? Reading books won’t get the job done,” Abbas argued.

 

“Malik reads a lot of books,” Kadar interrupted.

 

“And he can kick your ass in combat,” Rauf said with a laugh.

 

“But he’s not a scholar, is he?” he said and eyed Malik meaningfully.

 

“Stop talking about me behind my back,” Malik snapped.

 

Rauf walked up to Malik and slapped him in the back.

 

“We were just having a fun conversation. No need to take it so seriously,” Rauf said.

 

Malik eyed Altaïr and said, “Yeah. All fun and games.”

 

In the end the darkness fell over them and they made a camp. Rauf lit a fire for them which meant they could keep on chatting well into the night as they were all still too giddy to actually go to sleep.

 

The sky was clear and they could see all the stars. Voices from the wilderness echoed from the mountain cliffs around them but in their merry company they felt safe from harm. Somehow even the food they had brought which consisted mainly of bread and nuts tasted amazing when consumed in the warm light from the fire.

 

He could see Malik carefully rationing his and Kadar’s food, while Rauf ate whatever he wanted, and Abbas only ate nuts. He himself just munched on his bread while tinkering subtly with the dagger he had stolen and hidden underneath his robes.

 

“Have you ever thought what the meaning of all this is?” Malik asked almost absent mindedly but it caught the attention of the rest of them since Malik had remained almost mute the duration of their journey.

 

“What do you mean by _all_?” he asked.

 

Altaïr could see Malik leaning against a rock and closing his eyes before opening them once again and staring at the sky. Was this what consumed Malik’s mind these days?

 

“I mean just that. Life, death, and why we are here,” Malik replied.

 

“That’s simple,” Abbas said and everyone turned to look at him, “We are to serve Allah so we can all go Heaven. This is what the prophet has told us.”

 

“So you are saying our lives are meaningless and only the afterlife matters?” Malik questioned.

 

“No. It’s all part of Allah’s great plan,” Abbas answered.

 

“So what is this great plan?” Malik asked clearly not satisfied with the answer.

 

“You wouldn’t understand it,” Abbas said.

 

“And you would?” Malik challenged.

 

“No. Nobody does. It is why we need to follow the prophet’s teachings because Allah revealed himself for him,” Abbas replied.

 

The rest of them looked at the argument that was unfolding before them with a weird mixture of awe and horror, and with no clue how they should respond to it themselves. Altaïr, like most of the Brotherhood cared very little for religion and thought questions like these were best left for Al Mualim and the scholars.

 

“So you are blindly saying we should follow the teachings of some man who claims he has talked with Allah?” Malik prodded.

 

“It’s not some man but the prophet! He wrote the Quran which should be more than enough proof that he talked with Allah,” Abbas defended.

 

“What about Jesus then? He also wrote a book,” Malik questioned and Altaïr had a feeling if nobody interrupted the conversation it would go well into the small hours of the night.

 

“That’s Crusader nonsense,” Abbas spat.

 

“Look, I don’t think there’s any right or wrong answer for this question. Maybe our lives are what we make of them and the rest is up to Allah,” Rauf interrupted and Altaïr was thankful for his intervention.

 

“Hey! What’s tha?t!” Kadar suddenly shouted in excitement and pointed at the night sky.

 

It was a shooting star and they all stared at the sight in silence as the shiny orb travelled through the inky black sky. It was amazing what a person could notice while they slept under the stars.

 

And as they settled down for sleep Altaïr snuggled against Malik he could pretend it was only the two of them on this great adventure. There was only the star-littered sky which underneath he could throw his arm around Malik and it was all that mattered in the world.

 

*********************

 

The next day they made way in a similar disposition as the day before. Though he was sure that by now their disappearance must have been noticed and he was sure everyone else knew it as well. Well, except for Kadar who was oblivious to everything.

 

Malik navigated his way through the seemingly endless amounts of paths criss-crossing the hills like he had built a map in his head which, as far as Altaïr was concerned, he might just have. He had only vague idea of their location himself. He did observe Malik occasionally stop, look around himself for something he could not determine, and then continue down a path.

 

Their conversation was still light-hearted and their feet weren’t tired from all the walking even if they were still annoyingly enough slowed down by Kadar.

 

“I like the sword the best,” Rauf said when they talked which type of weapon they enjoyed the most and which one was the best.

 

“I also think sword is definitely the best. It has the best reach,” Abbas agreed.

 

“If you want reach you should pick throwing knives,” Malik contributed as he had stopped once again in a fork of a path before continuing down the path on the left.

 

“There’s nothing more dangerous than the hidden blade. Everything else is just inferior to it,” Altaïr said with confidence.

 

“But you don’t even have a hidden blade,” Abbas pointed out.

 

Altaïr frowned.

 

“I will have one soon and then I will confirm my words,” he said in an attempt to conceal his lack of actual experience with the hidden blade.

 

“But you will have to give up your finger for it. I don’t think I would like to have my finger cut off very much,” Kadar chimed, sounding rather worried.

 

“It is a great honour to give up one’s finger for the Brotherhood,” Rauf said.

 

“Yes. I wouldn’t think twice of giving up my finger if Al Mualim asked for it,” Abbas said and for once Altaïr agreed with him.

 

“Father had a hidden blade, Kadar,” Malik said cryptically without even looking over his shoulder.

 

“Ooh! Now that I think about it he really did! If father gave up his finger for it, I will too,” Kadar said.

 

Malik then stopped and turned around to face them all. They were at a fork in the path once again. For a while Altaïr feared they might have finally gotten lost.

 

“We need to decide if we are to cross the road and continue through a shorter path or continue on this side of the road on a longer path. We are no longer in Assassin territory so there is really no knowing what might be on the road,” Malik explained while gesturing to each of the paths. Malik did not mention that there could be pursuers behind them but everyone knew it in their heads that they weren’t supposed to be here at all.

 

“We take the shorter road so we can reach the crossroads faster,” Altaïr said determinedly.

 

They could not afford to take the longer road because there was no telling when the Brotherhood caught up with them and then their self-appointed mission would fail. They would also probably get punished hard for their disobedience.

 

Malik nodded and started walking the path that obviously lead down the hill. They had all gone very silent in an unspoken mutual agreement that what they were about to do required a lot of discretion. They were all taught the art of sneaking, including Kadar, and they put their skills to good use as they got closer to the road.

 

They got right up to the road where they squatted under some bushes to get a better view. There was a group of Assassins on horseback making their way towards Masyaf. They didn’t know if they were sent after them or just coming home from a mission but either way they couldn’t risk revealing themselves.

 

So the five of them pretty much held their breaths as the group trotted past them. One false move on their part and any trained assassin could easily spot them.

 

As the Assassins had disappeared from sight they listened for a while for any other signs of people making their way on the road. They could hear none.

 

They emerged from the shrubbery simultaneously and dashed down the road. Malik pointed at some vaguely path looking thing at the other side of the road as they ran.

 

Midway through Kadar stumbled on his feet and fell on the ground. Malik stopped immediately and Altaïr cursed the useless brat for existing. To make matters worse Kadar started loudly wailing immediately after his fall.

 

“Shut his mouth!” he snarled between his teeth.

 

Abbas and Rauf had made their way to the other side but Malik was attempting to help Kadar up and Altaïr was undecided if he should help or flee. His brain fought with his instincts for a few seconds before he realised he needed Malik so he could make his way to their destination.

 

“For the love of —” he started but stopped as he heard the distinct sounds of a horse cantering. For a split second he froze on his spot.

 

Then he sprung into action and pretty much flew to the spot where Malik was attempting to get Kadar going.

 

“We don’t have time for this,” he said and roughly pulled Kadar by his arm.

 

Malik was clearly about to protest when the situation dawned on him. It would have been comical to see Malik’s eyes widening like a scared rabbit but it was too real to be.

 

They managed to pull Kadar to his feet. Then they dragged the boy with their combined forces to the other side where they jumped into the bushes.

 

The both clamped their hands over Kadar’s mouth in a desperate attempt to quiet him down. They barely made it as a horse carrying a rider cantered past them.

 

The rider was not an Assassin but he could just as well as have been. Or even worse he could have been a Crusader.

 

As their heartbeats settled and they felt calmer Altaïr observed Malik comforting his brother. It stung him the way Malik doted down on his brother. He felt like Kadar deserved none of the gentleness Malik was offering him.

 

“Let’s go,” he said after he just couldn’t bear to look at the sickening sight of Malik hugging Kadar and telling him he was fine.

 

They were joined by Abbas and Rauf once again who both looked like they had been scared quite thoroughly as well. Altaïr reached for the dagger inside his robes just to make sure it was still there.

 

They kept on going and deliberately avoided talking about anything negative. Even after Kadar’s sniffles quietened down he joined in on the discussion about nothing.

 

They started playing a game of truth or dare to pass their time.

 

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you have been caught doing?” Rauf asked on his turn.

 

“I was found wearing women’s headwear. But I just wanted to try how it feels like to have that thing wrapped around your head,” Kadar answered all too eagerly and the rest of them laughed at him. Even Malik managed a chuckle between his constant frowns.

 

“Somebody stole my breeches when I was swimming and I had to make my way back to the fortress without them. The whole village saw me,” Abbas confessed and it was an incident everyone remembered.

 

Altaïr had stolen the said breeches but he had not told anyone about it, not even to Malik. Though Malik had suspected it might have been him. Malik had a way of sensing when he was causing trouble. Maybe it was a thing that came together with siblings?

 

“I was caught reading something very suspicious and embarrassing. The scholars didn’t want to leave me alone after finding out what I was researching,” Malik said which piqued all their interests.

 

“You can’t just leave us hanging like that. You must tell us what you were reading,” Rauf attempted.

 

“Yeah, tell us, brother,” Kadar agreed.

 

“No I will not,” Malik said stubbornly.

 

“You are breaking the rules,” Abbas attempted.

 

“No I’m not. Rauf said we needed to name the most embarrassing thing. He didn’t say anything about telling the details of said thing,” Malik reasoned.

 

While Altaïr was just as interested in what kind of book could be the source of such embarrassment, he was also secretly glad he didn’t have to confess his biggest shame. He had been caught kissing Malik by Al Mualim after Malik had asked him to participate in his experiment to know what kissing felt like.

 

The master had reprimanded him for his actions and made sure he understood such things were a forbidden sin. He had liked kissing Malik though so he didn’t understand why it was supposedly such an awful thing to do. He didn’t kiss Malik the second time though.

 

The rest of the day was pretty much spent bickering over the silliest of things. But when the night finally settled over them they were exhausted to the core and pretty much fell asleep immediately after lighting the fire and eating.

 

Altaïr waited until he thought Malik was asleep and then slowly inched himself closer so that Malik’s back was pressed against his chest. He threw his arm over Malik’s body and closed his eyes.

 

He was surprised though as Malik’s hand found his hand, pulling him even closer. He closed his eyes once again and pressed his head against Malik’s shoulder. It was a feeling he never wanted to forget as his stomach felt like it wanted to turn upside down in a pleasant manner.

 

He wondered what it felt like having a family – a real family. Did Malik feel like this every time he interacted with Kadar or was this something different? He just didn’t know as he had nothing to reference the feeling against.

 

With these thoughts in mind he fell asleep that night.

 

**********************

 

The next day they were in high spirits as they knew they would soon be at the crossroads. None of them had actually ever seen a Crusader – only heard almost mythical stories of them which was ample enough to the load their expectations into unimaginable heights.

 

“I heard they don’t have beards,” Abbas said while they walked in line through a particularly narrow path.

 

“You don’t have a beard either,” Altaïr countered and could almost hear Malik rolling his eyes in the front. He tugged his cowl to cover his head better and grinned.

 

“But I _will_ have beard,” Abbas defended himself.

 

“My beard is already growing,” Rauf said.

 

“You call those two hairs on your upper lip a beard?” he questioned.

 

“You have to start somewhere,” Rauf chuckled.

 

“There’s a woman living in the village who has a beard,” Kadar commented.

 

“What?” Abbas reacted.

 

“Or a drunk who likes to wear his wife’s clothing,” Rauf reasoned.

 

“Kadar. What have we discussed about telling lies to people?” Malik finally said after remaining almost entirely silent for the day.

 

“It’s not a lie! I swear it!” Kadar defended himself.

 

“It’s a bloody lie and you know it,” Malik berated his little brother which for some odd reason made Altaïr feel very good about himself.

 

“Why would I lie?” Kadar questioned.

 

The rest of them just looked on in awkward silence as the brothers argued with each other. They didn’t want to choose sides on this even though Altaïr would have instantly jumped on Malik’s side. He would always choose Malik’s side no matter what.

 

“You would lie to get attention. Now stop it and act like an adult,” Malik lectured.

 

“Yes, brother,” Kadar sniffled and looked clearly on the verge of tears.

 

They continued down the path in a very uncomfortable silence. Gone was the cheerful banter from moments ago. That was until Rauf decided to lighten the mood once again.

 

If Altaïr was the leader and Malik was his second in command, then Rauf was definitely the intermediary between the whole lot of them. It was a talent Altaïr was a bit jealous of because while Rauf was very average in all of his studies he was still very popular among the people.

 

He himself merely managed to garner a group of admirers around himself which mostly consisted of younger novices like Kadar. It was nice but it would have been even nicer to be accepted among his peers. Malik was kind of in the same boat as him except that he didn’t even have the admirers because of his tendencies to spend time in the library.

 

Then Malik stopped in turned around to signal them to keep quiet. Altaïr sneaked to where Malik was peering over a large rock.

 

He looked down the slope and from between the vegetation he could see something that was definitely a camp. He even noticed the Crusader flag flapping in the wind. They had reached their destination and the man in the village had been right. There was a Crusader camp at the crossroads.

 

He could feel the excitement coursing through his veins as his heart pumped in an exceedingly rapid pace. It was that moment when he decided he wanted to scout the camp more closely.

 

“I want to take a closer look. You can come with me or stay here,” he whispered.

 

Malik looked very unhappy about his decision, Rauf and Abbas looked both dumbstruck, and Kadar was excited. If he had the power he would have taken Malik with him and left the rest out but he knew there would be a mutiny if he didn’t at least offer the choice.

 

“Kadar, you stay here to secure our backs,” Malik said surprisingly quickly.

 

Altaïr had thought he would have to persuade Malik to come with him but for once Malik seemed to have the same idea with him, or he just wanted to keep an eye on him. He didn’t care really, as long as his best friend was with him everything would be fine.

 

Kadar looked ready to protest but Malik cut him short immediately, “Somebody has to be ready to signal if there’s something about to approach from this side. And if something happens to us there needs to be someone who can go back to Masyaf to warn the rest.”

 

Kadar seemed to accept this even if he didn’t look happy.

 

“I’m coming as well,” Rauf said and Abbas nodded besides him.

 

So they moved down the hill in a low crouch so they could maximise the cover the trees and bushes provided them. The camp looked empty as they approached it which was both relieving but also rather unnerving.

 

There was tension in the air unlike any he had ever experienced. It was like the air was electrified as he waited for anything – something – to just happen any moment now. He could smell the faint smell of horse and some other undefined thing.

 

They made it to the side of a tent where they all pressed themselves flat against it. He pressed his ear against the canvas and listened. There was nobody inside. He made eye contact with the others and wordlessly signalled them to infiltrate the tent with him. Malik shook his head, clearly frustrated. Altaïr rolled his eyes in response to his friend but moved anyway.

 

Rauf and Abbas followed him while Malik wandered off somewhere else. Altaïr moved the flap of the tent aside and stepped into the dim light and stinky air inside. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the light he noticed a desk, few chairs, and what looked like a bed.

 

On the desk were papers and scrolls. He moved to take a look at them. He took one paper slip on his hands and attempted to read the writing in there.

 

It was written in foreign language he could only make a few words here and there out of and not enough to actually make sense of it. Malik could have probably read the entire thing with ease but he had buggered off somewhere else instead.

 

He offered the paper and others like it to Rauf and Abbas in the hopes they would make sense of the writing. But they both took a look at the papers and shook their heads. He would have to commit more time to studying language as soon as they got back to Masyaf. It wouldn’t do for the greatest master assassin ever to not know his way around the enemy’s language, he decided.

 

He decided he would take the notes and show them to Malik later on, and to use them as proof of his success when negotiating his inevitable punishment with the master. Rauf and Abbas followed suit when he started stuffing the notes in his satchel and robes.

 

The flap of the tent moved aside and they all froze in place with their hands full of paper slips. It was a Crusader.

 

For a while they all just stared at each other like timid rabbits caught in a snare. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. A paper slip fell from Abbas which seemed to spurn them all into action at the same time.

 

The Crusader went for his sword. Altaïr pulled out the stolen dagger. Rauf and Abbas just panicked around.

 

“Fight him!” he commanded and it seemed it bring his friends into some sort of cohesion. They all just mindlessly stormed the Crusader. They all managed to dodge the wild sword swings the panicked Crusader attempted in the confined space of the tent.

 

Altaïr stabbed the Crusader in the gut and lost the grip on his dagger as Rauf and Abbas managed to tip over the flailing man. They tumbled around in the ground with the struggling Crusader and none of them were quite sure what they should do.

 

That was until somebody dropped a large stone on the Crusaders head which squashed his head like a melon. They all stared at the bizarre sight with their mouths hanging open.

 

There were blood splatters and pieces of _something_ all around the place where the man’s head used to be, where there was now a large stone. They didn’t dare to breath.

 

Altaïr’s gaze travelled upwards from the gruesome sight into the perpetrator of the act. Malik stood there with his legs in a wide stance and with his chest heaving, looking confused and angry at the same time.

 

He managed to gather his thoughts. Then he scrambled up which finally brought them all into action and they fled the tent.

 

Their feet carried them as quickly as they could back to the hill and up the slope. There was no trace of their earlier caution when they just ran for their lives.

 

They reached the place still at full speed where they had left Kadar. He grabbed the small boy with Malik and kept running while Kadar all but hung between them. They ran a good while before they stopped.

 

They all breathed heavily. Kadar attempted to ask what had happened but none of them wanted to talk what had gone down in the Crusader camp.

 

The sight of the brain scattered all around the man they had _killed_ refused to leave his head. It was a sickening thing and nothing like the clean assassinations they had been told of and taught to perform all of their lives.

 

No, what this was was a messy affair where four people had overpowered one man and then just desperately done everything to survive. He found his hands shaking and he couldn’t figure out why they did so.

 

“What happened there?” Kadar asked once more.

 

“We killed a Crusader, or at least I think it was a Crusader,” Malik answered.

 

Kadar’s face seemed to light up.

 

“You made your first kill? That’s amazing!” Kadar praised full of wonder.

 

“It is,” Altaïr confirmed because he saw Malik was about to protest. His friend gave him the eye.

 

“I even stabbed him with my dagger,” he added and at that Kadar looked even more impressed. Malik however looked even more sour.

 

“You shouldn’t even have a dagger,” Malik said.

 

“But it’s a good thing I had it, isn’t it?” he countered

 

“Altaïr is right. We would probably not be here if it wasn’t for his advanced thinking,” Rauf raised to back him up.

 

It felt good to be acknowledged like that. But the most pressing thing on his mind was that he was glad he had survived the encounter. Even better was the fact that he still had the notes with him. With them he would surely get noticed for his skills and be allowed to do missions. The next time he would not blunder his kill like that.

 

Then Abbas threw up and Altaïr suddenly realised they were all white as ghosts except for Kadar.

 

“Ewww! Gross!” Kadar exclaimed while the rest of them looked on in silence.

 

There was mutual understanding between the four of them as they had all experienced the same thing that day. They had all looked death in the eyes and survived.

 

After Abbas was done throwing up they walked until the night fell. Then they made camp for the night after thoroughly making sure they were not followed by any Crusaders. He had asked Malik to choose a route that would lead anyone following them astray and in the end he had no idea where they were himself so it must have worked.

 

“I don’t have water,” Abbas said.

 

“Here. I can share mine,” Rauf replied and offered his water which Abbas accepted.

 

They talked about this and that while basking in the warmth of the fire. Mostly it was just Rauf telling stories and Kadar commenting here and there. Rauf enjoyed telling stories and was very good at it which was probably one of the reasons everyone liked him. Altaïr found himself enjoying listening to the stories of the various people Rauf knew or had met.

 

Malik had remained awfully quiet once more. It was rather uncanny really as to how quiet Malik was as he had been nothing like that before. Malik was usually vocal about everything and now he would remain silent for hours on end only commenting when it was absolutely necessary.

 

That was until Malik suddenly asked in the middle of one of Rauf’s stories, “If you could decide what would you want to do?”

 

“A master assassin of course! And it’s not even if I could but I will definitely become one,” he said because he thought the question was inane. Nothing else had ever even crossed his mind as his destiny was to become the greatest master assassin ever. Period.

 

“A master assassin definitely,” Rauf said and Abbas nodded in agreement with him.

 

“Who wouldn’t want to become a master assassin?” Abbas asked rhetorically and they all confirmed his words. That was except for Malik who remained quiet obviously lost in his thoughts.

 

A small break in dialogue ensued as everyone waited for Malik to comment on the subject and share his opinion on the matter. Altaïr was especially interested in what his best friend had to say on the matter because he fully expected Malik to want to become a master assassin as well. He had visions in his head where he was the greatest master assassin ever and Malik was the second greatest.

 

Just as Malik was about to utter his response Kadar chimed in on the conversation, “I want to become a magic carpet!”

 

At which point everyone just lost it and they ended up rolling on the ground in laughter. Kadar the Magic carpet was a mental image just too stupid to not laugh at.

 

When they finally managed to gather themselves enough from the laughing fit Rauf asked the question everyone must have been thinking, “Why do you want to become a magic carpet?”

 

It made him and Abbas snicker a little bit more.

 

“I could fly everywhere and meet all kinds of amazing people,” Kadar answered without any hint of sarcasm.

 

Malik looked like he had swallowed an entire lemon.

 

“Your brother is an amusing creature,” Rauf commented with a good humour to Malik. Malik just sighed in response.

 

When they finally retired to sleep he did what he had done every night during their trip and cuddled up to Malik. But Malik did something he did not expect. He turned around in Altaïr’s arms to face him.

 

It was then Altaïr realised Malik was shaking. He tried to figure out what was going on since it wasn’t terribly cold, and Malik hadn’t seemed to be sick during the day. He pressed his forehead against Malik’s forehead to feel his temperature but Malik didn’t feel feverish either.

 

So he just pulled Malik closer to himself which seemed to be the right thing to do as Malik pressed himself eagerly against him despite the shaking. At some point the shaking stopped and Altaïr deducted Malik must have fallen asleep so he did as well.

 

********************

 

In the end after almost two more days of travelling the mountain paths and crossing the road once more they were closing in on Masyaf. He did remember the notes he had stolen from the Crusader camp once more and handed them over to Malik.

 

Rauf and Abbas did the same with the notes they had. Malik sat down on a rock to take a better look at the notes.

 

“This one is someone’s letter to home,” Malik said and handed over a note.

 

“This one is a letter back from home,” Malik said and handed yet another note.

 

“This one is a supply list,” Malik said and kept going on and on like that.

 

None of the letters contained any Templar secrets. Altaïr was disappointed as were Abbas and Rauf obviously. They were exchanges, supply lists, and scraps of someone’s diary.

 

He decided to hold on to them anyway because after all he had gone through such a trouble to acquire them. Paper weighed almost nothing so there was nothing to lose.

 

“Well it would have been too good if they had been Templar secrets,” Rauf commented.

 

“The Templars wouldn’t probably leave their secret documents lying around for anyone to see,” Malik said.

 

“Curse the Templars and their cursed language,” Abbas swore.

 

Their walking pace had slowed down into crawl as none of them were eager to get punished for their deeds. Kadar was now running in front of them without any worry in the world. It wouldn’t take them too long to be back at Masyaf.

 

It was at sunset when they reached the village gates. The guards there stared at them with disdain. Many of their brothers appeared from almost out of nowhere to demand where they had been. Rauf told them the short version of their adventure.

 

Altaïr could see the innocent awe clearly on their faces as they watched their small group proceed through the village. It was then when he realised the four of them had irreversibly changed during their adventure. While the rest of their fellow novices still clung to their childish beliefs they had left their childhood naivety at that Crusader camp at the crossroads.

 

As the birds sang in the darkening evening of Masyaf the master dealt their punishment for them which the four of them had to go through. Somehow Malik managed to talk Kadar out of being punished.

 

And so ended the last summer of their childhood.

 


End file.
